Circumstance
by Heartstrings-pulled-thin
Summary: Dumbledore finds a loophole that allows him to "adopt" Harry, thus allowing Harry to be safely raised at Hogwarts. There he meets new friends, old enemies, different loves, and enjoys a life full of magic and mystery. Story is set to go until his 4th year! Rated M for violence and cursing (magical or otherwise). CURRENTLY UNDER REVISEMENT. CHAPTER 2-4 BEING REWORKED
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the characters, and the Harry Potter world. I own my computer, my brain, and my cat.

Chapter 1 – How it starts

**November 1****st****, 1981**

"They're the worst kind of Muggles Albus, must we?" McGonagall said to the Headmaster.

Dumbledore had come to the same conclusion, and was wary that being raised in this environment might embitter the child to the wizarding world, or to the Headmaster himself. It was a risk he had to take to keep the young boy safe. The blood that ran through the opinionated bitch inside was the best protection Albus could offer the boy. And with the assurance that Voldemort was not dead, protection for this boy was the only hope that they had. That's what he would have thought had there not been a small flash from inside the Headmaster's collar when the giant-of-a-man Hagrid passed the bundle over. The other two present didn't seem to notice it, but that was hardly of importance.

Dumbledore smiled and disapparated immediately, forgetting the young charge in his possession for just a moment. When he reappeared inside his office, he was immediately surprised.

"Quite the lungs on that one, Albus" quipped the ever helpful Phineas Black. He was but one of many previous headmasters who always had a comment or two to spare for the actions of their living counterpart.

Dumbledore ignored him and rushed over to an object to the left of his desk. One of quite an assortment, this particular devise - one that he tended to ignore simply because it rarely did anything - began glowing and spinning rapidly as he stepped close. Dumbledore unfocused his eyes to stare at the object for a minute before his suspicions were confirmed and a smile broke out on the old wizard's face as he conjured a crib to put the child in. With a mysterious smile, the Headmaster began preparations for his newest revelation.

**Privet Drive, a few seconds after Dumbledore left.**

"Where'd 'e go?" Rubeus Hagrid wondered, not really expecting a reply from the still shocked Professor.

She was one of the few besides Dumbledore that he held in very high regards that also reciprocated some respect. The man scratched his beard and gave a loud harrumph to get her attention. This caused her to jump and turn to address the groundskeeper.

"I do not know, Rubeus, but I intend to find out" Minerva stated before also disapparating to go find the Headmaster. Hagrid stood there still scratching his beard, before turning and walking back to his bike. He didn't notice the small bike on the ground that crumpled under his foot and threw him off balance enough to slam into the Dursley's car. Quickening his steps as the car alarm went off, he was already in the air when an almost-as-large moustached man stormed out of his house with a cricket bat – which was dropped once he saw the massive dent and both broken passenger side windows. Hagrid was far enough away at that point that he could barely hear the anguished cry over his motorcycle.

**Hogwarts Castle, Headmaster's Office**

"You can't be serious Albus; the boy needs the protection provided by a blood relative. You said that the only blood relative he has is that accursed Muggle family. I don't mean to defend them, but what other choice do we have?" Minerva heatedly argued, after the declaration that the Boy Who Lived would stay with him.

She had stormed into the office in a huff, still breathing heavily from having to walk all the way from the gates. It wasn't like her to get mad over things, but she felt protective of the boy who had just saved the wizarding world from years of torment at the hands of Voldemort. McGonagall was only made angrier by the grin which had adorned the Headmaster's face since she got here. How could he be so negligent of the boy's safety when there were still Death Eaters at large!

"Minerva, please sit down. Would you like a sherbet lemon?" the old man said, in attempt to placate the Headmistress. She was still extremely high strung after finding out less than an hour ago that the most feared Dark Lord that the world had ever known had been defeated by a baby. The offer of the Muggle candy always got a grin out of her, though. Taking the offered armchair, she politely adjusted her robes and prepared for another set of news.

"It seems that the blood of Merlin, whom all wizards descend from as you know, runs as strong through young Harry as it does through me. I believe that I can bridge the rest of the blood connection needed for the wards with a simple ritual. It will be a trying ritual, but in the end I will be as much a viable relative as Mrs Dursley is." Albus explained before picking out a sherbet lemon to enjoy. Muggle candy was a vice that had followed him for many a year.

"You intend to do a blood ritual on the child!? Albus, surely you must realize the –"

"Not on the child, Minerva. On me. The only thing the child will have to provide is a small lock of hair. The blood will have to come from Mrs Dursley, which I had already collected in the time it took you to rush to my office" pulling a vial from his robe, Albus stood and walked over to a basin near the front of his office.

"The ritual requires that I have the blood of a living relative, and some piece of the one I wish to become a direct relative to. It's an old way of further combining Pureblood Families. Alas, they preferred some of the less savoury but more complete ways of inducting others into their families. Ones that combined the blood to both participants rather than this one sided version. This will make me as much an Evans as I could be, without making Harry a Dumbledore. It wouldn't normally be enough for the blood protection the boy needs, but the Merlin blood will provide the rest of the relation I need."

The entire time that this was being explained, Albus was preparing the basin. A small knife cut to each fingertip on his right hand - which he pressed into the bottom of the basin – gave him the blood to trace runes decorating the rim of the basin. Motioning for the lock of hair, which was handed to him, Albus then took the vial of blood and dropped the few drops needed into the basin. After a small puff of smoke, the basin was full of a thick blue mixture. The mixture turned black as the hair was dropped in.

"Think of this as … a less tasty Polyjuice potion, which forever makes me a false yet also true relative of the boy" Albus said, carrying the basin over to his desk before he began drinking. After it was downed there was a small flash of red under his skin, and Dumbledore passed out. A little more than shocked for one too many times today, Minerva sat down on the armchair to wait out this new development.

Young Harry shifted fitfully in his new crib, unaware that he was a little less alone in the world.

**A short time later**

"I have no idea _what_Albus is thinking, giving me a boy to watch with Halloween having just past. Does he not know the amount of candy that makes its way into these children's bellies around this time? And now I have to change a child while he _sleeps_the day away?" grumbled the school's nurse Madam Pomfrey.

Her anger wasn't real though, as she smiled at the small boy currently trying to grab onto her St. Mungo's medallion. She was fascinated with him, as it seemed he knew exactly what was going on. The scar on his forehead gave him away as the saviour of the wizarding world, but she didn't let that interrupt her professionalism. If peek-a-boo could be called that.

Madam Pomfrey's games were interrupted by a less-than-subtle cough from the Deputy Headmistress as she came to retrieve the child. Albus was awake, and Minerva was more than ready to get this business over with. Reverently would be the way to describe the care that Poppy was handing over the child, and McGonagall could not fault her for it. She took the same care as she carried baby Harry to the Headmaster's office. People would be floored to see the strict Transfigurist cooing to a small bundle in her arms, and that's exactly how Snape felt when she walked by without noticing him.

**Headmaster's Office, 15 minutes previous**

With a groan, Dumbledore straightened up at his desk. He knew the ritual would take a lot out of him, but he hadn't passed out since his Animagus training. This prompted him to glance over at the perch that Fawkes liked to frequent. His swan–sized familiar was still there, currently fascinated with something on one of his feathers. Another groan preceded his efforts to stand. Sending Minerva off to retrieve the boy from Poppy, Albus also sent Fawkes with a note detailing the paperwork he would need from the goblins to finalize his actions. Dumbledore would be considered Harry's legal guardian, but Harry would not be considered a descendant.

Sending a few other letters to select folks – mostly fellow Order members and one to the Daily Prophet – left just enough time to savour another sherbet lemon. Albus straightened his robes as he heard the knock on his door and after an affirmation to come in was joined by his second-in-command. Settling the boy into his crib, the two accomplished teachers sat down. Another failed attempt to get someone else to indulge in his vice and Minerva voiced the very thing that had been hovering in the back of her mind since before the ritual.

"The boy will be seen by too many, Albus. We should move Harry to a safer location." Fiddling with her robe only heightened the nervousness she felt.

"There is no safer place as you well know. The blood wards require that he be near me. And my duties require that I be near this school. Rest assured, he will be raised safe and sound in these halls. What better place to cultivate a love of magic and learning than in the very place that cultivated ours?" Were the words that preceded another sherbet lemon. Albus felt that he could indulge himself a little today, knowing that the peace that was slowly being realized across Magical Britain would be able to be experienced for quite some time. Not forever, but enough time that he could get a few contingency plans up and running.

Minerva could only nod, knowing there was no way that she could change his mind. Standing and excusing herself woke the baby in his crib, and a grin broke out on both of their faces as Phineas grumbled and walked away to visit one of his other portraits while he waited for that dreadfully noisy child to grow up.

Albus walked over to the crib and used his long beard to keep the boy entertained as the other professor made her exit. It occurred to him that even though he knew the peace wasn't going to last forever, he could still enjoy it for now. Besides, with a grip like that and the blood in his veins, Dumbledore was all too curious to see how well this boy could fly a broom.

**A/N:** Well… I've long been a fan of fanfictions, but I've never been inclined to write one. I'm not very good at writing, you see. In school I would barely finish 1-page essays, let alone anything longer. However, my teacher felt that I needed an outlet for creative juices. I usually do this by LARPing though that's once a month at most. I don't want to be one of _those_ authors who can barely spell a damn word or that makes their story so cliché that it hurts just to read it. I might not be a writer of any sort but I love reading with all my heart.

Special thanks to my awesome beta for helping me figure this out! :D


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So here is the first chapter of my rework of Circumstance. It basically needed a reinvisioning after I spent almost a month constantly reading Harry Potter fanfictions. This chapter will include more things, as well as more elements that will be explained later in the fanfiction. I hope to have the other 2 chapters I took down and 1 extra before the end of August.

Happy Reading Viewer.

Chapter 2: Money, Muggles, Muggle-borns, and Malfoys

-July 31st, 1991 Hogwarts School-

Harry Potter took a large breath to calm himself, watching with vague interest as his exhaled breath formed pseudo smoke in the crisp morning air. It was unusually cold for this time of year, not that Harry minded. Cold tended to keep him more alert, which is exactly what he needed to be when he was on his broom. Uncle Dumbledore would always get mad at him when he practiced Quidditch with the Bludgers active, but what good would practice be if he didn't at least attempt to challenge himself the same way players did?

If anyone asked him where he felt at home, the first reply would be on his broom. Ever since Harry could remember, he had loved the feeling of flying. During his exploration of Hogwarts he had found out that his father had won the Quidditch cup for Gryffindor on more than one occasion. This prompted the boy to beg and beg and beg for a broom for his 7th birthday. Dumbledore was stubborn as anyone, but after 3 solid months of puppy eyes and horribly veiled hints he relented. The catch was that Harry could only practice in the Quidditch pitch, which meant during the school year his time off the ground was quite limited when the teams were practicing. Harry quickly turned into an early bird if you'll excuse the pun, to get as much flight time as he could while the students were attending class.

Alertness saved his noggin from a solid hit as the young Boy Who Lived, a title he hated, narrowly ducked a bludger. Being the only person on the pitch had its disadvantage as both bludgers targeted him. True to their nature, Harry was forced to right himself and perform a spin to smack the bludger away with the back end of his broom. Taking advantage of his change of direction he took off, chasing a small golden glint in the distance. Though his father had been a Chaser, Harry found his joy in chasing the elusive Snitch. He even had his first caught Snitch in a small box in his room, a gift from Madam Hooch. Rolanda Hooch was the biggest advocate for Harry's habit of practicing with Bludgers in the mix, arguing that the boy was made for the sport and that hindering his growth for fear of a few small bruises was a grievous insult. He had to agree that they were a little bit scary, and his arm still remembered how hard they can hit. But one broken bone in over 3 years of flying was definitely not as many as some people got.

"Mr Potter! Professor McGonagall needs to see you immediately! Mr Potter!" came the familiar yell of Madam Hooch. Harry ignored her for a short second as he deftly dodged both Bludgers who had tried to pincer him. The same Bludgers that were immediately summoned back into the box designed to house the feisty balls of iron. Harry made a quick dive and landed deftly in front of Madam Hooch, handing her the Snitch and his broom.

She regarded the damage to the end of the broom with disdain "I thought I said stop using the end of the broom like that, or I'll stop fixing it."

"Please don't! I had to! Those little buggers are relentless!" Harry explained, fearful that he would lose his broom. It wasn't a Nimbus sure, but a Cleansweep Four was still better than the beaten up school brooms. His fear was appeased when Madam Hooch simply smiled and fixed it with a simple spell. She handed it back with a smirk that made him both anxious and excited. It was his birthday after all. And though 7 in the morning was early for getting presents, he and Madam Hooch both were very early risers.

"You don't need this scrappy old thing" was all she said as she summoned a sealed package from the open door of her office. Handing it over before the boy could come up with anything to say she simply told him to open it on the way to McGonagall. The Quidditch coach was unable to even finish the sentence, or hear herself finish for that matter as Harry Potter became a proud owner of the very same Nimbus that he had just been imagining. Harry almost managed to kick off the ground before Hooch snatched it from him again.

"You'll have all the time in the world to fly this thing later. For now you need to go see McGonagall. Come on now" she said as she led him off.

Harry tried his best not to think about his new broom while he and Hooch exchanged small talk about Harry's favourite Quidditch Team Pride of Portree. His nerves got the better of him as they got closer to the office though; still remembering that he had avoided Auntie Minnie successfully since his last prank.

Why she would ever get so mad at an exploding Chocolate Frog he will never understand, though having that same frog take a picture of her face to put on the card was hardly fair. And then having that same picture hung up all over the school thanks to the lovely House Elves was also hardly fair.

Harry didn't say a word as his attention was snatched by the design of his broom, not even when he almost tripped over Mrs Norris. Cats hardly held a candle to the gloriousness of a new broom. He had been dying to try out a few moves that he had thought out, but his old Cleansweep hadn't been agile enough. A sharp cough snapped him out of his daydream as the raven haired Harry realized he had been standing in McGonagall's office for almost a full minute.

"So nice of you to join us Harry. It seems that Rolanda finally gave you your present. I'm glad that it's to your liking but I think that this will also make you happy" the stern Deputy Headmistress handed him a letter. Hooch took this moment to step out and leave the two to it.

Twice in the span of a half hour Harry a joyous surprise. He had wanted this letter since he was 3 and was shown his first display of magic by Uncle Dumbledore. Young Potter shakily opened the letter. He had read the acceptance letter quite a few times over Dumbledore's shoulder. This fact did nothing to quell the butterflies in his stomach as he read it himself.

Hogwarts School

of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Harry vaguely heard the Professor talking as he wordlessly moved onto the equipment portion. "I know it's a tad late, but with Albus off on business I wanted to give him another day to return before I gave it to you."

Even though Dumbledore had a habit of leaving on business for sometimes weeks, it was still a sore spot that the main parental figure in his life was going to be missing Harry's birthday. Luckily he was completely distracted as he read over the equipment list. He had never been able to sneak a peek at this part of the letters before, so the surprise as he read the last line was genuine.

"Parents are reminded that first years are not allowed their own broomsticks" Harry read out loud, flabbergasted that within a month of getting a new broom he would have to give it up for an entire school term. His lifted gaze was met with a small smile as Minerva McGonagall looked at him.

"Myself and Madam Hooch have already sent a few letters to the Board of Governors who have agreed to make an exception for you, considering your talent on a broomstick. We didn't mention you by name so you can wipe that look off your face. I know that you hate to get special treatment for being famous, which is why I can't wait for you to attend my class" She said with a smirk, watching as his look of annoyance changed to one of mock fear.

Though Harry lived in Hogsmeade during the school year - only being allowed on grounds during Holidays or under the supervision of Hagrid – he still managed to take advantage of the Library. Ever since he learned from Madam Pince that magic is learned from books he had devoted his free nights to studying whatever books he could get his hands on. Though Madam Pince refused to let him study the course books she still lead him to reading some interesting history books, and some low level theory books. Harry also perused some of the books that Uncle Dumbledore had in the study at their house, which mostly were about Transfiguration but also had a few charms books and a sizeable choice of Defence Against the Dark Arts books. Having an ex-teacher for a guardian had its perks, and Dumbledore was more than willing to help Harry along in his studies. Potions had also become his 3rd favourite subject due to his ability to do it without magic.

This is what led to his look of mock fear, as he was well ahead of many second years when it came to theory. Especially in Transfiguration, Dumbledore's old subject. Confidence was a strong Potter trait, Minerva had discovered, and young Harry was not found lacking. She definitely looked forward to having him in the classroom, to see how well he could put theory to practice in what she considered the most difficult magical field of study. She remembered how well James had taken to Transfiguration, even bonding with a wand that was almost made to cast it. McGonagall hoped that it ran in the family.

Her musing was interrupted as Harry repeated his question. "When can we leave?"

'Eager as always' she mused in her mind. What came out was a little different. "_We_won't be leaving. _You_will be leaving in a short hour, with Filius as supervision."

Harry smiled as he was told that Flitwick would be his chaperone. The diminutive man was one of Harry's favorite professors, always ready to lend an ear when Harry had a question on charms theory or an excuse when he would be caught red handed doing something he shouldn't. It had been Flitwick who had cast the charm on the frog that Harry used to prank McGonagall last year.

Saying a short goodbye, the young boy made his way down to the kitchens for a small snack. Even though he was dying to try out his broom, Harry knew that if he got on the broom now it would take a small miracle to get him off again.

-Diagon Alley, London-

"So first order of business will be Gringotts, I sup… Mr Potter are you listening?" Flitwick asked his charge. The boy had been lost in the shop windows from the moment they had entered. It even allowed him to ignore the looks of astonishment that people were giving him. Harry had never been to Diagon Alley before, always doing his shopping in Hogsmeade. Dumbledore had been unable to manage the Potter affairs and therefore had set up a trust fund with his own vault that Harry could use for many things leading up to his Hogwarts acceptance. Today, however, he would be allowed to access his parent's trust fund as well. Flitwick had even promised him something quite spectacular once they made their way inside.

"Sorry Professor, there's just a lot of things I have been wanting" Harry explained, as he stared longingly at Flourish and Blotts. The Boy Who Lived was almost as excited about new books as he was about his wand.

Gringotts was something that Harry had wanted to see for a good while. Reading the amount of history about goblins and seeing it for himself were two very different things. The curious boy was lead to one of the many cubicles lining the entrance. A few short words with a goblin a few inches shorter than his chaperone and they were on their way to an office, which confused Harry.

"Professor, where are we going?" Harry said as they were led past the minecarts that were meant to take them to his vault

"You'll see Harry. This is what I was telling you about, and why I was chosen as your chaperone and not someone unfamiliar with the inner workings of Gringotts" Filius replied, as they stepped into a room with a sign above it that said "Inheritances and Last Wills"

"Why are we in here? I was told by Uncle Albus that I wouldn't get an inheritance until I turned 17" Harry said, as he sat down. Flitwick only smiled in response and skilfully climbed into the seat next to him.

The grizzled goblin in front of them, named Grinfist simply ignored the question and pulled a few papers out of a small box in front of him.

"That would normally be the case, had your father not been well versed in Goblin affairs. The Potters have been customers here for quite some time, and it was customary to teach the oldest male heir the nuances required to get the most out of their money. Due to a strict clause in your father's will you will be inheriting quite a few things today. Master Dumbledore was quite correct in his assumption, as this is a rare occurrence, but he is also correct in that you will not receive the title of Lord Potter until your 17th birthday" Grinfist said, as he organized the papers in front of him before beginning.

"I, James Frederick Potter…" he began reading, opting to skip a few lines to get to the parts that mattered.

"In the event that I should be caught and killed by Lord Voldemort, and my wife not survive me, the following items will go to my son, Harry James Potter, on the day of his 11th birthday.

My Invisibility Cloak, currently in the possession of Albus Dumbledore.

My Silver Mirror, being held by one Remus Lupin.

His Mother's Charm Bracelet, held by one Remus Lupin.

My Golden Snitch, held in the Potter Vault.

My back up Vaults and all interest accrued therein, held by Grinfist and the Gringotts Goblins, shall have all currency removed and a Third shall go to Harry while the rest is divided and sent to any of the following: Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin.

My Journal, held in the Potter Vault.

Once these conditions are met, Harry's School Trust Vault shall have its sum doubled with funds from the Potter Vaults so that until such time that he is of age and will be allowed to inherit the entirety of the Potter Name and Holdings he will be able to live in the assurance that the only worry on his mind should be Girls, Quidditch, and School. In that order."

Harry had barely been holding back both the grin and the tears that came from the reading of his father's will. He had heard a few stories from Flitwick, McGonagall and Uncle Albus over his lifetime and he was both happy and sad that their assessment of how much James had loved him was not far off the mark.

"Most of these items will need to be recovered from their holders, and shall be sent to you at nine tonight. The Money is already taken care of, and the objects in the vault shall be retrieved and sent to you through Griphook, who shall be your guide to your trust vault"

They both left the office and made their way over to the carts, where there was another goblin waiting for them.

Harry discovered by the end of their trip that he enjoyed the carts almost as much as flying. Looking to his right he noticed that Flitwick enjoyed it just as much. The two shared a smile as they got off to walk over to Griphook, a name Harry thought was awesome.

His trust vault was rather large according to the Charms professor, and was positively loaded with Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts. Grabbing the offered bag from Flitwick, which he knew had an Expansion Charm inside it; Harry loaded up on the Galleons and Sickles. Dumbledore had explained that Harry would be riding the train his first year, for the experience if nothing else, and the boy was going to take advantage of the sweets offered on the food trolley.

"Master Potter I have the items that were in your father's vault" Griphook said from the doorway. The Goblin had left them in the vault while they counted out the money they would need, so that the items from the Potter will could be retrieved. Handing the boy a small box and a medium sized book they made their way back to the surface shortly thereafter.

Freshly stocked on wizarding money and still dizzy from his return trip on the trolley, Harry followed Professor Flitwick over to Ollivanders Wand Shop. This was their first stop in the shopping trip. The sign above the shop had peeling paint and the outside and even the inside appeared shoddy and dusty. Despite this, you'd be hard pressed to find a better wand maker in Britain.

"Ah, welcome Mr Flitwick. Here to reclaim your old duelling wand from my window? And who is th… Mr Potter, I had been wondering when I would see you walk through that door. Just like your father, you are. Let's see, let's see. Here we are, a Holly with Unicorn hair. Give this a wave" Ollivander said as he went from amicable with Flitwick to full business, measuring Harry and picking out a wand before the boy even had a chance to reply. Before Harry had even waved it the wand was snatched out of his hand and replaced. A few produced laughable results, and some were disastrous. Ollivander snatched another wand out of his hand. The accomplished wand maker's expression changed to one of contemplation as he walked back over to the many stacks of wands for what felt to Harry like the millionth time. Worrying that there wasn't a suitable wand, Harry took a step over to Ollivander to ask that very question. This proved to be a bad move, as his foot almost seemed to go rogue and kicked a teetering stack of wands. Oddly enough only one box fell, falling in what felt like slow motion and opening. Harry's Seeker reflexes kicked in and he snatched the wand out of the air. As soon as he touched the wand warmth filled him and he almost glowed, which prompted him to instinctually wave it before anyone could tell him otherwise. Ollivander had a look of glee on his face even though half of his stacks of wands were knocked over, and more than a few of the boxes were now rats running through his store.

"The wand chooses the wizard, every time. That wand in particular is one of my finest. It is Mahogany, like your father's, though a bit longer at thirty centimetres. What's interesting is the core of this wand is actually two cores, from twin sphinxes. Your mother's core was sphinx hair as well. My father criticized me for keeping the hairs together, but I can gladly say that I do not mind at all that you have just proved him wrong." Ollivander explained, as he accepted the 14 Galleons for the wand. At Flitwick's urging Harry also bought a wand holster from Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment. Of course, the young Potter was more than willing to take any wand advice from a Master Dueller. Dumbledore had also said that Harry should look his best at all times, since it would only be a few short years before Harry would become the Lord Potter.

To accomplish this order to look his best, Harry lead the way to the next stop which was Twilfitt and Tatting's. This was the nicest clothes shop in Diagon Alley, as Flitwick explained. In only a matter of minutes, attended by 3 witches who fawned over his scar, Harry was outfitted with a rather large assortment of clothing. Though he was bitter about the special attention, seeing that some people had been waiting before him for an attender, Harry was all too impressed about his robes which were magically enchanted to adjust to his size, repair and even iron themselves. He was also excited about the hidden pockets in a few of them, which were already being sized mentally to stock up with a few of Filibuster's more humorous creations.

Their next stop was Flitwick's gift to the young boy, it was a small shop that focused solely on Eyesight repair and Eyeglasses. Due to Harry being born with poor sight and therefore not having much to repair they were only able to slightly alleviate some of his naturally poor sight and get him fitted for magical glasses. The glasses had a weatherproof and scratch proof spell on them, as well as a command phrase transformation to goggles of the same prescription that would be able to be used for Quidditch.

"And Potion making as well, Harry" Flitwick reminded with a grin, which started Harry thinking of more than a few explosions in the boy's room as he tried unorthodox methods to make potions.

-1 hour later, Diagon Alley-

The amount of things they had to levitate between shops was growing quite fast now that Harry had his potion supplies. Having a trunk, especially one with 3 compartments and an expansion charm inside each, had helped the situation but a trip to Flourish and Blotts had quickly eliminated an entire compartment due to Harry not wanting to shrink any of the books. They were on their way to Florean Fotescue's for a small ice creamcone when they heard a crash. Up the road, outside Madam Malkin's Harry could just make out a head of bushy brown hair picking up pieces of glass from a dropped vial. The majority of the noise had been the many books she had been attempting to carry. What further prompted Harry to walk up and help was that she had bumped into a blonde youth. Harry recognized the hair as a Malfoy trait, having had the displeasure of meeting Lucius Malfoy a few times when the slimy man would visit Uncle Dumbledore in his office. Usually it was for silly things, and just recently it was about getting special permission for his son to be allowed to play on the Quidditch team. Harry realized that the man had probably asked for it because of the letters that McGonagall had sent to get that very same privilege granted to the young Potter.

"…ggle-borns always getting in the way" Draco said, as he wiped imaginary dust off of his sleeve. Harry simply pushed past him and began helping the girl pick up some of her books. Malfoys were known Pure-Blood fanatics, and after catching the end of the sentence it was clear that this girl was Muggle-born. Draco looked down at the boy that had just pushed him, but was cut off from saying anything as Lucius stepped out of Madam Malkin's.

"Is there a problem, Draco?" Lucius asked, with much of the same tone that Draco talked with. An almost oily tone that Harry found pompous, and in need of deflation.

"No Father, just a few Muggle-borns that can't watch where they step" Draco replied before turning to leave. Hardly a step was attempted before a previously unblemished face met the street when the Malfoy brat faceplanted.

"Seems even the Noble House of Malfoy has a little trouble watching where they step around here" Harry said, as he stood up. His hand disappeared briefly into a pocket with no one the wiser.

"Ah, Mr Potter. A pleasure, as always" Lucius said evenly, as his son was forced to pick himself up with no assistance. Harry only glared back, and once it was clear that pleasantries would not be exchanged they made their exit. Draco also glared back but said nothing, even though Zonko's Super-Sticky Gum was stuck to his shoe.

"Thank you for your help" Harry heard behind him. Turning he saw that the books had been neatly stacked again, this was impressive with the pile being almost up to the girl's waist.

"I'm Hermione Granger" preceded an extended hand.

Harry matched the gesture "Harry Pott…" was all that could be said, before the bushy haired girl squealed and shook his hand with a vigour that almost snapped his wrist.

"I knew I heard him say Potter! Oh my gosh, you're taller than I expected but none of the books I had read mentioned your height. They only told of how you defeated You-Know-Who, and a few vague references to your family. It's really quite interesting that so little is known of you, even though you're exceptionally famous. You should consider doing an interview for one of my favorite authors. I have a few of her books here if you're interested, though I have more at home. I only came here today to pick up a few more books to take with me to school." She said in a single breath. Harry was astonished with the fact that her small frame could even hold a breath that size.

"Erm, I like my privacy" Harry said, still shocked by the strength and long-windedness of this girl. She finally released his hand, which allowed him to shake the hands of her parents. They seemed almost lost, which was understandable. It took Muggles quite some time to get used to the wonderment of any magic. The girl seemed to be nervous too, still. And her shyness was only increased when Flitwick walked over. The Charms Professor had been picking up something at Gringotts. Why it hadn't been picked up earlier was something that had piqued Harry's curiosity.

"Welcome back Professor. This is the Granger Family" Harry stated, still angry at the Malfoys which prompted him to drop into Noble Etiquette mode. It was the tone and mannerisms he adopted when he'd rather be at home buried in a book.

Filius disregarded Harry's change of tone and turned to the Muggle Family and talked as he bowed to each of them in turn. "Hello, I'm Professor Filius Flitwick of Hogwarts"

Glad that the mention of a teacher distracted Hermione, Harry was able to examine some of the titles of the books that she had purchased. He was mildly intrigued and surprised that she was already buying some of the more advanced books for their year. 'Ravenclaw surely. It'll be good if she has talent too. Guys like Malfoy will leave her alone"

Waving and saying goodbye to the Grangers after they had a small conversation with Flitwick, Harry made his way to his last stop, Eeylops Owl Emporium. Dumbledore had been adamant about the "no pets until you start school" rule. An owl was the perfect pet when it came down to it. It stayed in a cage, ate its food, and delivered your letters. Harry hoped to make a few friends this year, and wanted to be able to keep in touch with them during summer break. As he entered, he noticed that each of the owls were watching him. Getting a cage first, the young Potter decided that Flitwick's proposed method to picking was the best. Holding the cage up high, Harry let out a whistle. Only three owls moved, with one clear winner. A snowy owl had flown to the cage immediately. Paying for the owl was a simple matter, and Harry left the Emporium with a newly dubbed Hedwig in her cage who was hooting approval at the treats that were being put in the cage by Flitwick.

-Fin-

A/N: First Chapter Rework is complete. Most of it is the same as before with a few notable differences. Such as an inheritance from his Father, and some new glasses.


End file.
